Nightshadows
by Nagareboshi Star
Summary: He was mesmerized by her form, her being, her radiant existence. He stared, watching eagerly. Never would she know how much he admired her, how much he needed her. He was her shadow, constantly lurking, always following. How ironic that she was actually hunting him, incapable of capture when he was so close, every night. SasuSaku. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **_Hey there! This is going to be a bit of a darker, but still romantic story with very short chapters. I like the concept of short, snappy chapters, it allows me to type them up quickly and then keep you updated at a really regular basis._

_So if you think this story is worth continuing, then please do review! _

_Inspired by the Hannibal Lecter movies (but do not fret! Nowhere near as dark!)_

* * *

**Nightshadows**

**Chapter 1**

She lay there, radiant like a flower, awaiting the break of dawn from the next day.

Calm, peaceful, but knowingly restless in his opinion.

Her chest heaved up lightly, carefully, before sinking in a steady rhythm.

And he stared intently at her immaculate form. Her cotton pink hair twirling and twisting softly across her head, along her shoulders and over her collar bone.

It glittered and shimmered like a sparkling ocean in the dim moonlight which poured through the stained window glass.

And her skin.

Her _skin_

It rounded and curved and stretched in all its glory, delicately but fitting, as if she were made of silk and not tissue like all other humans.

He dared not touch it, for fear that even a slight brush of his fingertips against her alabaster shell could destroy the image of perfection presented in front of him.

And by dear God, that was something he truly did not want.

Even though he would be once more able to view those spectacular eyes of hers.

They shone brightly like the most polished, cherished emeralds of this world, but contained a specific deepness, like malachites, which, he thought, _no_, he _knew_ only he could decipher and understand to its fullest.

Her body was breathtaking.

He dared not _think_ about it too much, for lust and eagerness began to clutch at every fibre of his being.

What would he give to trace her contours? To let his hands feel the spotlessness of her neck, down to her soft collarbone, continuing with the sweet well-sized mounds that led towards the flat of her belly and then led him along her tender legs.

She sighed gently.

It was as if that simple, little, silent gesture had caused a blast of wind to break free and dash his way, wafting him with the intoxicating scents of her being.

Forest, it was. Leafs of winter, rain having just poured on dry, crumbly earth and ground, rose buds and red fruits. _Cherry_.

None of the smells that surrounded her was as distinct as _cherry_.

Wherever he went, wherever he looked, turned, wandered, he would smell cherry.

Everything reeked of her.

She was his curse.

And the irony of it was that she didn't even _know_.

She didn't know what he thought nor felt.

Why he stood here every night, watching her in her sleep, translucently like a golden light and seemingly apparitional.

She did not know who he was, what he looked like, that he even _existed_.

But _wait_, she _did_ know!

In a way, she did.

She had _seen_ him before, but she had never taken note of it, of course.

But that was not why she _knew_ him.

How could he put it?

She _hunted_ him. Since five years, he had accounted, she was after him. Desperately, eagerly, frustratedly she tried to bring meaning to all of his actions and deduce conclusions of characteristics that would fit – all futile.

She couldn't comprehend him. He was there, for all the world to see, but still he was hidden.

Like a shadow.

That is why he had called himself Nightshadow.

Or maybe _they_ had ultimately given him the name, not without his brilliance having forced them to dub him that and nothing else.

Because, of course, none of them had ever seen him. No police officer, no civilian, no secret agent of the FBI or CSI and especially not any detective.

Not even _her_, the most brilliant of detectives. She was the star in that field, the amazing, cursingly sly and clever young lady who was asked to hunt down the infamous Nightshadow and thus end his carrier of mass murderer and psychopath.

_Psychopath_.

He could live with the former, but the _latter_?

How would they _ever _understand what truly went on in the complexity of his mind?

And just because they didn't, they found themselves the right to nickname him a _psychopath?_

He was far from it, very far!

If at all, _they_ were the ones who should reconsider their sanity. He was a mastermind like the world had never seen it before; what fault was it his if they were simply too dumb and simple-stricken to catch him?

Two years they were chasing him like dogs chasing cars – an action not worth the effort.

And then they employed _her_.

He remembered how his eyes had first landed on her, when she stood so incredibly mournful on the streets, doing what she had been paid for and would be.

If only she knew she was so close to him every night – that he was _right there in front of her but she could not see him!_

That he lusted and desired her with such incredible, devastating passion he thought he would implode at any given point.

_She_ was turning him a psychopath, unknowingly.

He could not tell if he loved the sensation or not, but he knew one day wherein he could not see her would destroy him to a point where the safety of anyone passing by was no longer secured _at all_.

He hoped she wouldn't be the end of him.

All he was certain of was that simply visiting her and seeing her would no longer do.

His need was growing, growing rapidly like a spreading fungus.

He needed to..._deepen_ their bond.

And soon the little game would commence. He'd wallow in her cries and ecstasy.

Because, what she did not know, but he was so painstakingly aware of, was the fact that _she needed him too._

* * *

_**A/N: **As said, short chapters. But it gives me the chance to type these up in between my other stories as a kind of „break." I promise updates for this one will come more frequently, as chapters are very short. _

_**Please leave a review to tell me what you think of this story; is it worth to continue?**_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:**_Thanks for the support up until here my beloved friends! As said, short chapters, quick updates thus._

_Here is chapter 2, and an insight into Sakura's life, even though small._

_Enjoy and don't forget to check out my other stories!_

* * *

**Chapter ****2**

The rain tormented the roads mercilessly, soaking edges and plains, causing films of water to cover more and more patches, until streets turned into rivers and driveways were scattered with "ponds".

And in between all the patter and thumping, large splashes were caused by racing boots, so fast passengers trudging calmly through the downpour couldn't quite comprehend who had just passed.

"Stop him!" The female voice barked harshly, jumping over a Great Dane with ease and causing an elder lady to call out in shock.

But the other inhabitants of the town simply gazed in confusion and awe as she continued her frenzied hunt down the drenching cold and dark streets of Konoha.

The black-clad man in front of her suddenly turned into a twisting alleyway, trying to camouflage within the sombreness of the shadows the buildings produced.

Knowing the streets and alleys like the back of her hand, courtesy to her fantastic photographic memory, she continued running down the lane, turning across the main street and hurdling over a corrupt fence.

And the man ran right into her.

She grabbed him with a rough hand, winding his arm around his back and immediately immobilizing the burglar.

Before she could finish her actions, further cops and police-cars halted near the dead-ending alleyway, uniformed men and women exiting to take over the work she had completed with much do.

"Thanks detective Haruno, we'll take him on from here." She nodded towards one of the cops with a cold gaze as the others forced the man into a police car not before handcuffing him.

She turned to another officer.

"Took long enough for you to grab that serial thief. I'm not here to do the petty jobs you aren't capable of doing." She spat with an annoyed tone, dark emerald eyes scanning her soaking clothing which hung heavily on her body.

The officer nodded meekly, seemingly ashamed and intimated, "Sorry for this...inconvenience Haruno-san."

With a twist of her orbs she left the scene, deciding to leg it home instead of anywhere else.

She liked the prospect of a nice _hot_ shower to soothe her aches.

* * *

Running after _frivolous_ art thieves, jewellery robbers and even those paltry _handbag burglars _was not what Sakura expected when she was called to Konoha's police station several weeks ago.

The liked the idea of having a different atmosphere around; of being in a _different_ town, with new things to see and consider.

With a proper case which would sate her need of riddle-solving and evil-catching.

She loved the hunt.

She must have been a wolf or eagle or something similar in her former life.

It felt _exhilarating_ when she cracked the minds of rapists and psychotic serial killers of all kind.

When she ended up a step ahead.

She deduced the answer before anyone else, crossed their mind-path, foresaw their actions and ended their careers terminally.

Her name was the last thing they heard or read before being barricaded in highly technological institutions for the rest of their damned lives.

Because they were simply considered _incapable of ever living a normal human life._

They were the kind of destructive people we only ever hear in movies from.

Like in Shutter Island.

Or Silence of the Lambs.

Name it, they were all the same.

Believed to be these ideological masterminds _no one _would ever decipher.

Well, they hadn't met Haruno Sakura yet.

She was not starred as a detective for nothing. As the most clever brainiac to be found far and near.

She had an IQ immeasurable yet by human kind, because it exploded on all charts and would have been something way over 500 if the scientists were forced to give an answer.

They used to call her miracle-child back in the days.

Her classmates, of course, had other nicknames prepared for her.

They considered her a freak, but Sakura was so detached to all the emotional trash that it did not waver her.

It would be an error to say she had always been like this.

No.

She once had a mother she loved.

A beautiful, caring, tender mother who bundled her up in her arms and held her tightly, out of _love_.

With this distinct, safe smell surrounding her that her mother always owned.

She'd feel secure, happy, smiling brightly like stars amongst the heavens.

There were days where she'd step into fields of dandelions, picking up one after the other to blow wishes whilst giggling the childlike way you'd do when you were 5.

There once had been a form of pure innocence, which, had it been preserved, would have caused Sakura to become an attaching, loveable person full of affection and emotions and _love_.

Who knows what kind of life she would have led then.

What kind of man she would have met, and the family she would have created.

But that was but something stupid Sakura no longer pondered about.

Fate had punished her for its own reasons.

She no longer desired affection and normalcy.

Only through given circumstances was she capable of cutting herself off from the others, was allowed to become something independent and stable and _so unique._

She now stood with the title of a detective highly renown throughout all the world. She was feared in the world of crime, because no matter how corrupt you were, she could find you.

And she would.

Simply because she was corrupt herself, but had decided not to go the wrong way. Sakura still believed in the pure hearts of this world, and desired to act for them.

The rosette liked to consider herself as a _guardian angel_ of sorts, sent down specifically by God to capture those way too broken to ever make it into heaven again.

Sitting down by her desk, forcing the water out of her curling locks with the towel in her hand, she traced the contours of the article laying neatly on top of the polished wood.

"_Nightshadow..._" She uttered with disgust.

A picture of a black male silhouette with piercing, glowing eyes faced her.

He was a phantom.

A wicked murderer who had never been seen, never caught, whom the police hunted for years but no one could ever find or decipher.

_Nothing_ was known of this man.

The greatest minds of this world didn't recognize his motives.

All he ever left behind at the scenes of crime were useless, obscene and cried corruption.

But nothing more.

Sakura had the feeling that all the police knew was what he _wanted_ them to know.

All the possible _hints_ and _clues_ were left behind purposefully.

He controlled what everyone thought he was. And he would continue to control their thoughts and minds.

He would always be capable of catching them off guard.

Always a step ahead.

Even in front of Sakura.

Which angered her immensely.

But the pinkette was not famed for nothing. The worst, most criminal people had met and end because of _her_, he was just another name on her list.

She would find this barbaric, sick man.

She would catch him.

And break him.

* * *

_**A/N: **T__h__e Irony of L__i__fe Sak__ura, t__he Irony __o__f __l__i__f__e! _

_Two people, somewhat broken, hunting each other._

_How will this end?_

_Please review to tell me your thoughts! I would love to know! Don't be a silent reader, say something, even if it is only a word! XD_

_Mucho kisses!_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:**_I like writing these chapters, especially whilst listening to good music such as _**_Snow Patrol – Chasing cars._**_ Builds up a good atmosphere._

_Oh, and on an _**_important note_**_; as I have said before, this was inspired by watching Hannibal Rising. I am a big "Silence of the Lambs" and "Red Dragon" fan and when I found out we had the DVD's for the other 2 movies, I watched it together with my brother! I liked the concept of a psychotic murderer and his love towards a woman he can never actually have. _

_But still, my story will be much different! I hope you like what my twisted mind comes up with sometimes!_

_Enjoy some more of Sasuke!_

* * *

**Chapter 3**

A gush of wind blew tearingly at his visage as he observed his surroundings.

Cars puffed and worked tediously, horns were grazing at his ears like rough stone. The toxins rose into the atmosphere, obscuring the heavenly sky with their staining, rising forms.

He stood still in a crowd of hundreds of people. All sorts of shades dashed past him – mainly blacks, browns and the occasional red.

In every direction did they wander – left, right and diagonal, pushing him, dodging him, cursing underneath their breath, believing he wouldn't hear or mind.

Many glowered at his stationary form, scowls disapproving of the interruption in the flow of human traffic.

Everything was bursting with noise which mingled and mumbled one above the other.

"Yes, but if the contract has any signs off..."

"Mom, love you too! Say hi to da-"

"Mommy! My bear!"

"Careful!"

All the voices came and fell into a void. They drove towards him with high speed, before being blasted away with a simple "puff" and leaving his consciousness.

And all he'd do was stare.

There was a sort of silence within his mind, a kind of equilibrium.

A peace that was deathly, a kind of rest which stirred with varying emotions similar to clouds bursting up into different contours and hues.

Sasuke admired the way he could filter out the noises with perfect distinction, or how he could concentrate on a single, specific sound, analysing it, no matter how far off it was, even though the traffic and chatter and babble of all the people was louder than disco dance music.

He couldn't _help_ but admire himself for it. Why shouldn't he? Not many were capable of what he was.

Being able to stand in a crowd of devastating many humans, and still enjoy blissful silence.

One might wonder, thus, what a man like him; so cold, detached, and used to stillness would want in the middle of hundreds of different people, men and women and children, rushing past them to scurry off to work or school or shops or whatever they needed to attend to.

It was the social aspect of him.

A dim, wrinkled, folded, tiny little part of him which hungered for the knowledge of other, normal living beings still _alive_.

He imagined to be part of the crowd, to rush to his own work, or his wife which waited at home with dinner and their child or children, whatever it would be.

In a house, he'd sometimes muse, a pretty little house.

Never too big but neither too small. With a garden for the children and his wife to tend to beautiful, lovely flowers.

Just how it is supposed to be in fairytale families.

He'd see it with his inner eye – an utopian image of tranquillity and love.

But as quickly as the thought came, it evaporated again towards a deeper part of his mind.

He'd smirk bitterly at his foolish, daydreaming behaviour, making him seem a little child who still had ambitions like any other.

_Pathetic._

He was never a child, and would never live to be one, so his thoughts were wasted time.

Even so, he en joyed the indirect _company_.

It made him aware that he wasn't as invisible as he believed himself to be sometimes.

People could still _see_ him. They _knew_ he was there.

They would forget and deem it unimportant in order to continue with the mundane life they led, yet there would have been a short, deliberate moment of awareness in which Sasuke's presence was evident.

These situations also helped him to _forget her_.

_She_, who infiltrated his mind without any respect and politeness, intruding his inner, most private thoughts and haunting him the way he haunted his victims.

There would be a flare of anger rushing into his eyes, making them burn like a dragon's flame, before it extinguished and was replaced by utter lust.

Her impeccable form was always there, engraved into his memory as were the screaming, crying faces of the people before he'd kill them.

No matter what he did, he felt his mind rush back towards her.

And he simply did not understand.

Why was she always there? What was it about her that made him feel so...lost and yet complete?

His dark, rotten heart wouldn't understand, he mustered.

But by God, he would find out why she was succumbing to his awareness.

He'd find out, and then he'd punish her adequately in return.

She will get her reward.

He smirked.

She _definitely_ will.

* * *

_**A/N: **__Thanks for supporting me guys!_

_**Please review everyone! All SILENT READERS, review too! A word'll do!**_

_**I love reading them, you motivate me so much!**_

_Thank you!_


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:**_Quick updates because creative minds have creative ideas at ungodly hours :3  
_

* * *

**Chapter ****4**

He lay outstretched, midnight eyes focused at the dim ceiling as if it possessed some intriguing detail he could not stop noticing.

Around him curled various beautiful young women, huddling close to his frame. Their bodies were fully exposed, not even the silken sheet covered what should not have been uncovered so carelessly.

They glowed in silent glory. Skin dyed a milky, brownish coffee colour, shining as if painted with clear varnish. Their hair curled lustrously in all directions, twisting and twirling with every shade one could imagine.

These girls could have been, so in most people's opinions, the image of perfection which every man desires to have with him in his bed.

But not so Sasuke.

They sated his needs, indeed they did, for that and that alone he called them to him.

Or rather, they _came_ willingly.

And _stayed_ willingly.

All he needed do was enter a random bar of his liking; well, actually, he liked nothing – and look with his cold, digging eyes into those of a girl that seemed to be satisfactory and he had won the game before it even begun.

Like some hypnosis they came, as if a magician had just cast his grand trick and everyone fell for it undoubtedly.

He pulled a string and the world exposed itself for him. It was that simple.

He got what he want without putting up much of a fight. He had it in his blood. Like a lethargic tiger, elegant yet wild, silent but deadly.

You could not help but give him unfaltering attention, even though a small part inside screams and roars and begs for you to run away, for the danger is painfully evident, but all common sense gets wiped out with a single blow.

All warning is futile. You fall before you know you did.

All but _her_.

Thus his anger, even though boiling with whispers, was bubbling and frothing to the top.

And hence was the reason he lay there, surrounded by breathtaking, striking women a thousand times more pretty that _her_, but his mind would tell him they all couldn't come close to the radiating beauty she possessed.

They all withered like dull, listless flowers in her light.

Just the way he did, being diminished to nothing but a shadow around here, whilst he shined like a king for others.

Why could she not see him the way others did? Why didn't she give him the attention he deserved from her?

She should be begging for his mercy, crying for his attention and idolising him for his perfection.

Like everyone else.

Yet.

Would he still fetish about here if she were like all others?

He doubted it.

Her personality, behaviour and actions was what made her unique.

Her beauty and radiance was something nature had pranked her with, and intoxicated his mind into believing there was nothing more exquisite and alluring than her.

He couldn't help but believe it was that way, to put some sort of sense and logic behind these feelings which inhabited him.

He needed her.

He _craved_ her.

But she wouldn't see.

So he had to show her.

No matter how much she'd writhe and wriggle to get away from him, he'd force her to him.

For he wanted to see her struggle beneath him, to scream his name at the top of her lungs as he'd take her and take her again.

Until all she could feel, see, taste, smell and hear was him.

She would _breathe_ him uninterruptedly.

He'd be omnipresent.

And he would repeat until he was such for the rest of her life. She shall no longer desire any other being besides him.

He would _make_ her crave him.

And once she did, once she could not resist him any longer, once he had her there where he desired her to be, he'd break her.

Forever.

Unrepairable.

And throw her away.

* * *

_**A/N: **__Oh deary me, what will Sasuke do? Expect the next chapter...to have an insight on Sasuke's and Sakura's "work". :D_

_**PLEASE REVIEW EVERYONE! All SILENT READERS, review too! A word'll do!**_

_**I love reading them, you motivate me so much!**_

_Thank you!_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

A smell of rottenness rose to her nostrils as she entered the corrupted complex of a motel.

The walls were scraped off their once proud glory, dirtied plaster and exposed brick revealed to the cruel world and the even crueller scenario displayed in front of detective Haruno Sakura.

Whilst her _team-mates_, or rather, _assistants_, both male and female, stood in utter shock and disgust in front of the gruesome manifestation within apartment number 201, her eyes were unwavering, her facial expression cool and composed.

Emerald orbs inspected the torn arm on the ground, crusted with patches of blood whilst some remaining liquid still blubbered out. The fingers were broken, evident due to the fact that they were twisted in inhuman ways, with nails pulled off and scratch marks scattered all over the limb as if a cat had gone on rampage.

If Sakura didn't know better, she'd say an oversized wolf, having been deprived of food for months, had feasted within this destructed confine and was gradually growing insane like in one of those horror movies.

"We found a toe." One of the police-men reported with a shaky tone of voice, holding up a plastic bag with the stated contents.

"Any other limbs?" She requested coolly after scanning the bag disinterestedly.

"We haven't found any more yet, but tonnes of blood. The bed is completely soaked." A different, female assistant answered.

Walking across the scratched, burnt wooden floor, trying not to step into any holes which popped up here more frequently than in a Swiss cheese, Sakura twisted her head to inspect the bed.

On first sight, ignoring all the circumstances and limbs within the room, it would seem the bed was clad in dark reddish brown sheets.

Red worn, patchy blankets with holes and loose threads dangling about white.

It would look poorly dyed.

Until, of course, you'd notice the fact that It was indeed all _blood_.

"Let me inspect it." Sakura commanded, outstretching her hand to receive some pristine white gloves that smelt overly sterile.

She did not know what was more unpleasant; the smell of decay and death in this room or the disgusting latex odour from her hands.

Sakura raised the sheets, critical eyes scanning the torn mattress.

Feathers popped out like disjointed bones, clusters of stained feathers and wool scattering all over and glueing themself to the sticky red substance.

"Anything else around? Any tools, any letters, fingerprints, seamen; did he rape her?"

But the policewomen shook her head with an apologetic shrug, "No Miss, nothing. Even her belongs have been removed. All we have is the identity of the victim, and that only because we could confirm through a DNA test."

The rosette sighed in a strangled manner, pulling off one of her gloves viciously before stroking through her corkscrew locks with a look somewhat close to frustration.

It felt strange, this sensation. The overly clever detective wasn't used to this situation. She always held control over what happened, always scanned through perpetrators quickly and easily.

She solved a case without needing to look at the scene of crime, at times.

She had been trained to break a person's _mind_ during interrogation; she got _anyone_ to speak, _anyone_. Even if it meant they had to visit a psychiatrist for the rest of their fucking lives.

But right _now?_

No, she didn't look through this.

The broken room did not help.

Only blood, a few limbs and more blood than anyone wanted to see.

And this disgusting, rotting smell.

Ugh, it seemed to have intensified ever since she reached the bed.

The bed...

Her eyes sparked up, turning to view the devastated mattress again.

Several parts had been torn out, but only the one at the centre of the bed had a grand hole with bloodied stuffing.

Touching the soft material with her gloved hand, she was positively surprised to notice that some of it came off onto the rubbery texture.

Smirking, she dug her hand into the stuffing, past two iron springs and deeper inside.

"Detective Haruno, what are you...doing?" the same police-women asked in confusion, a chart in her hand on which she was currently working to complete the crime-report.

Yet she did not answer, malachite eyes focused, until she finally touched something soft, somehow bouncy and wet.

Grabbing it was hard, as it jumped out of her grip like a lively fish.

But finally her fingers curled around it tightly and she tried to manoeuvre it out of the mattress with delicate movements, as to not corrupt whatever she held within her hand.

Sakura would be lying if she said uneasiness wasn't chasing her right now.

Finally reaching the surface again, her hand popped out and from it hung a dark red, glibbery substance Sakura firstly did not recognize.

"A stomach." It was the forensic doctor who replied as he raised his glasses to make sure he wasn't wrong, "yes indeed. And fully intact."

The rosette didn't miss the nervous twitch in his voice.

Grabbing a large plastic bag, she stuffed it inside, trying to swipe away the gory blood that now frothed out of the organ and smeared her arms and more of the already unrepairable bed.

"Check it on any contents; any indications we can get will be useful."

The forensic doctor nodded, before rushing off rapidly, bag in hand.

"How did you know there was an organ hidden within the mattress?"

Sakura glanced into the eyes of the police-women, observing her features.

She had large brown eyes, thin lips, pale, round cheeks and dark chocolate hair tied pack into a ponytail.

Her uniform was neat, she stood straight, yet was quite small.

The detective sighed, turning to look at the scraped walls.

She was obviously new in her station, or generally in her job. An excited young woman having studied criminology in the hopes of becoming a successful police-officer capable of solving mysterious murders to help this world become a little safer.

Sweet. Really sweet, her little dreamy thoughts, just like those of little eight year old girls wanting to become famous popstar singers or vets.

"I just knew."

"Oh..."

Innocent and sweet.

And naive.

Why had they allowed her to this horrifying case? A newbie?

No wonder the police was failing to catch him.

"We have the proof" A voice called from the next room, rushing to the bedroom door and looking expectantly at Sakura.

Following, the pinkette directed herself more towards the exit than to the area the man wanted her to go to.

"What proof?"

"That this all was Nightshadow's doing." He spoke proudly, pointing to the bathroom door, which stood gapingly open, presenting them with a mirror smudged with blood, depicting a perfectly round circle.

"_How the hell does that bastard draw such a perfect circle without any stains or drops...he uses __**blood**__ after all..."_

"You needed _proof_ to be assured this was _his_ doing?" Her body already reached the door numbered 201 on a rusty plate, "Get a grip boy, instead of searching for unnecessary details, look for further samples to take in for analysis. We need to catch this freak."

And with that, she left, walking along the corridors and towards the exit of the small, downy old motel of the glorious name "Cherry Orchard."

"_You damn bastard. What are your motives? Why is there never anything left behind except for a few limbs and blood? Why can I not find you?" _She bit her lower lip furiously,_ "Will you never make a mistake...?"_

* * *

_**A/N: **__Thanks for the reviews, favs and alerts people! Great to know some people are interested!_

_Please continue to __**REVIEW**__ so I can continue to update quickly :3_

_Mucho kisses! _


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Dedicated to the anonymous "A passerby" for writing the most touching review I have ever read. Thank you for those kind words, they meant so much to me and are greatly honourable. I hope you sincerely enjoy this chapter, and in general, the story! :)_

* * *

**Chapter 6**

A delicate hand held onto the piece of paper carefully, unmoving, analysing the words with precise precaution; she could not let a _single_ detail slip by.

Everything was important. Every so small little tiny scrap of information could be the key to this case.

Her eyes were wide in focus, dull without the knowing spark she usually got when having deduced a correct answer.

For today, they stayed their lightless way.

With every detail she consumed, confusion arose and tortured her mind, making the complexity of the case seem indescribable.

Putting it in short and simple words: not even Sherlock Holmes himself would've mastered this case.

Which was a problem.

A _grand _one.

The organ she had found within the torn mattress, she now found out, was _not_ from the victim, but from a different, male man; apparently a youngster, just arising the age of twenty and starting his overly complex medicine course at a highly renown University.

Or rather, he _was_.

The police was busy raking around Konoha, trying to find the bloody corpse.

But all that held identification was the organ, an arm, and the face of the boy which had been found in a trash can a couple of blocks away from the first murdering-scene.

More precisely, the _skin_.

For the gruesome monster known under the dark name of "Nightshadow" had _peeled off his skin masterfully_, leaving it behind like a mask to wear during Halloween.

Or carnival.

Or whatever costume party you'd come up with.

Like some Hannibal Lectre.

But _worse_.

Sakura could muster no strategy, no intentions, no reasoning behind his doings. Nor _how_ he did it.

Keen viridian eyes inspected the photos she had received not even a day ago, scanning through the various pieces.

At every scene of murder, there were only ever parts and pieces of the body left behind.

An arm. A leg, a thumb, an ear, a nose, an _eyeball_.

It was never coordinated, never had a pattern.

Sometimes Sakura would find three or four limbs scattered around, sometimes only one.

They all would belong to the victim.

The _total_ corpse would _never_ be present. Or detectable.

What he did with them stayed a mystery.

"Maybe he burnt them...but there have been no notices about fires around. Something like that would've been obvious. Unless he goes a great distance to burn them...no, that would be _way_ too intricate." Her eyebrows furrowed delicately, "However, this is _Nightshadow_ we're talking about."

Considering the bloodstained circled he always drew near the shredded limbs he left behind, perfectly coloured, without the tiniest drop gone missing, Sakura rethought about how much _effort_ he actually cared to put into his work.

Unnoticeable to most, but not to her, she _had_ discovered a tiny, smudged corner once, at a 29° Clockwise, indicating he was a left-handed man.

Her eyes had brightened up like glittering stars the moment she deduced this deciding piece of information.

However, her victorious smile was shattered the moment she scrutinized the cuts along the skin-layers they had taken in for inspection.

They were definitely done by a right-handed person.

Sakura's only new assumption was that he was ambidextrous, which was no help.

A sigh escaped her petite lips upon realising that she never managed to get a step closer to that man.

Now that he had even decided to suddenly place an _organ_ around his _workplace;_ the organ of a _different_ victim!

The only constant was the red circle drawn at random places each time, and the fact that no complete corpse were to be found.

Oh, and taking in the detail that he seemed to murder at night.

How she had realised this, Sakura was unsure at this moment in time, but she vaguely remembered having ordered policemen and other forces to increase during the dark, sombre hours of slumber.

It didn't help.

Nobody had stopped him, seen him, recognized something, heard anything.

He came like shadows at night.

Invisible to the world.

Unseen.

Except for his victims.

But they no longer lived to tell the tale.

Her fingers trailed to the TV remote next to her coffee-table, switching on the device in front of her.

Immediately the silent room echoed with the voice of the newsagent.

"'ad fallen into a ditch near a not properly plastered road. The experts are investigating what went wrong with the construction of the now brittle road and have closed it to hinder further accidents from-"

She switched to a different channel, lazily taking in the flashing colours of nightly soaps, sighing when her eyes found nothing interesting, not even the news.

Which of course, never reported about Nightshadow.

They were busy hassling over breaking roads and car-accidents and pickpockets.

"_They can't report about him, or her...or rather **it**." _Sakura mused with an aggravated nerve jumping up near her temple, "_The city would go amok."_

Finally deciding to switch off the machine and returning to the stacks of documents displayed in front of her, Sakura nearly jumped when her phone rang vibrantly in her pocket.

She grabbed it, confused that someone would call at such a late hour, "Detective Haruno?" She spoke hoarsely, noting that this came not due to her bad mood, as primarily anticipated. Her voice was actually laced with lassitude.

She needed sleep.

"Haruno-san! We need you to come to the fifth road down the street of the police department!" A young, male voice coughed; he was seemingly running as he spoke.

"Why so?" She inquired, her attention suddenly peeked as all fatigue escaped her.

"We found another victim! It must've happened just recently."

Wide eyes took in the newly fed words and the pinkette jumped up to her feet, "I'm coming!"

With that, she grabbed her coat and clicked off her light, leaving with rushed feet.

_If only she knew her prey had been sitting by her window the entire time, watching her eagerly. _

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_**A/N: **__Thankies again for all the support! Don't forget, that next to __**alerting and faving**__, you can also leave behind a __**review**__! It would mean so much to me, no matter how short it is! :D_


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Yes, you have the allowance to kill me for not updating this in a while. All I can say is: LIFE IS A BUSY BEEEEEEP_

_Please read and review!_

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**Chapter 7**

It was a feast to his eyes, watching her pondering, slender form as her eyebrows knitted delicately together and eyeballs strained in serious thoughts.

He smirked as obsidian orbs glistened with admiration.

How beautiful she could be, all concentrated, all eager, all _clueless_.

Sasuke loved making them scratch their scalps in frustration, screaming and bellowing and crying to dear God and the Heavens for redemption.

Which, of course, _never came_.

But with her it was a whole new story. It was so much more than just the breaking of nerves and making you regret paying humongous bills for a University diploma which, in the end, did _not _pay off.

She fought, and fighting she could; every tiger would be jealous of her agility and determination.

With each new victim he served her on a silver platter, she grew more and more fond on catching him, she'd stay awake longer, grab more documents, read more books, take shorter walks, eat less, drink way too much caffeine to ever be healthy.

He would kill her simply because of overwork and malnourishment.

A frown crested his brows.

Not a thought he enjoyed much.

Sakura glittered like an unpolished diamond found and kept deep in the dark mines; like a _bloo_d_ diamond_, Sasuke mustered.

Her beauty radiated for miles, but the poor worker who found her would have to leave the sombre, dirty canals in order to recognize this.

All the magnificence she glowed with, but still no one saw it.

_But him_.

And gradually, he was breaking the precious jewel, watching tiny, precise cracks form and slither along the immaculate shape of its owner.

Yet with every rip, he felt himself sinking.

What was it, that made him so attached? Why did he..._worry_ about her well-being right then and there?

He couldn't stop his _game_ now!

Not after they had continued to the next stage. To the next chapter, to level 2, where a freshly killed man waited for her to observe and inspect and rip apart with her theories and forensic experiments.

Sasuke glided along the night, not even a rat would have jumped when he passed.

Stalking along trees and cars, keen eyes focused solemnly on the pinkette who raced maddeningly to the next victim, hoping he had made a mistake, done _something_ that would give him away to her.

So she could rip away his clothing, leaving him naked to the world, and especially, for her to scrutinize and smirk as she tore him apart, bit by bit.

But instead of presenting her with her much desired deliverance, as _much_ as she _yearned_ for it, he pushed her off the edge into a further, even gruesomer abyss which he hoped would consume her.

He couldn't take her presence anymore, she was seriously making him go _insane._

If he didn't take her soon...

The raven-haired murderer could tell her confusion. The way Sakura crouched gradually, her eyes wide, a sudden liveliness reignited within them as she tried to deduce logical motives from what lay before her.

Something so abnormal compared to the prior scenes-of-crime, that she must've considered for a fraction of a second if it is _indeed_ Nightshadow's doing.

But then again, the impeccable maroon circle gave him away.

Purposefully.

For a short second, Sasuke asked himself how she had liked his present? The one he had left behind within the mattress of the motel bed.

None of the police-officers would have ever found it. They would have burnt the shredded piece of antique furniture and not even _considered_ what Sakura began to consider.

That you need to use your imagination and begin to see things at places they might not necessarily are at, but could still be.

It was his gift, specifically for Sakura.

He knew she was falling into a void no-one would ever rescue her from.

She would die with this case, becoming a solemn drunk who hated the world and hated life and cursed everything that moved, breathed, and _died_.

For she knew no love.

And nor did he.

Which was the reason they were so paradoxically suited for each other; he, the impenitent murderer, her, the flawless detective.

So he stayed calm, stayed mute, and watched with eagerness as she discussed with short, cut words what had happened, who had seen whom where, and what evidence they possessed.

Of course, this would only drive her further into delirium, for before she can think through everything well enough to find _some kind of breaking-point_, he would again swipe and prepare another corpse which screeched for her attention.

She would have another paradox to analyse.

And to frustrate over.

But it wasn't enough, Sasuke suddenly noticed.

_It wasn't enough_.

He needed to do something.

Something needed to change.

Time for the rules in this game to take a turn.

He smirked.

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_**A/N: **__Thanks again for the support my wonderful, endearing readers! Don't forget to __**review!**__ A word does the trick! ;D _

_I will update more frequently, so don't fret!_


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